


The Final Rose: Analyzing Reality Romantic Television

by goforth



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Season 3, the bachelor - Freeform, there's implied annie/jeff because i couldn't help myself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24418942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goforth/pseuds/goforth
Summary: “Welcome back, viewers! We’re here to embark on the journey of Jeffery Winger finding love… or, at the very least, a date to the End of the Year Dance. Behind these glass windows of Study Room Seven are five lovely ladies ready to battle it out for a chance to win the heart of our handsome bachelor. Who will get the final carnation? I, for one, can’t wait to find out.”“Perfect.”Or, Abed needs to produce a parody episode and Jeff (unwittingly) needs a date to the dance.
Relationships: (background) Annie Edison/Jeff Winger, Jeff Winger & the Study Group
Comments: 26
Kudos: 57





	The Final Rose: Analyzing Reality Romantic Television

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a product of insomnia and a love of trashy reality television. All credit goes to Dan Harmon, Chris Harrison, ABC, and boxed wine.
> 
> Unbeta'd, and it's been a while since I've written a multi-chapter, so please don't judge me too harshly!

“Welcome back, viewers! The last time we were together, Jeff Winger was on the road to discovery—”

“Cut! Troy, this is the first and only episode.”

“I know, but I thought it could be cool to establish some sort of relationship with the audience. Like how seeing Chris Harrison in that opening scene always feels like you’re getting a warm hug from a friend.”

“Fair enough. You can keep the first line. But try and refrain from implying that the viewers missed an episode with the second; it could alienate those who don’t recognize the element of parody yet. From the top!”

“Welcome back, viewers! We’re here to embark on the journey of Jeffery Winger finding love… or, at the very least, a date to the End of the Year Dance. Behind these glass windows of Study Room Seven are five lovely ladies ready to battle it out for a chance to win the heart of our handsome bachelor. Who will get the final carnation? I, for one, can’t wait to find out.”

“Perfect.”

.

.

.

It starts like this:

“Forget it, Abed, I’m not doing it.”

Annie looks up from her Anthropology notes to watch Jeff and Abed walk into Study Room Seven, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Not doing what?”

“My screenwriting class final,” Abed supplies as he sinks into his seat at the table. “I asked Jeff to help with my project, but he’s refusing.”

“Jeffery!” Shirley and Annie let out matching offended gasps, but Shirley does the chastising. 

Jeff’s rolling his eyes as he takes a seat. “What Abed conveniently _didn’t_ mention is that he wants to make a reality dating show with me as the main contestant.”

It’s Annie who takes the bait. She shifts in her seat and tries to not look as interested as she is. “What… kind of dating show?”

“The assignment is to create a parody script. The format doesn’t matter so I chose a spin on _The Bachelor_. I could have done a science fiction or action movie, but it feels played out. The viewers expect it from me, so I’m trying to break the mold.” Abed flickers his gaze from their faces to the notebook in front of him, moving the pencil in his hand as he talks. “And besides, this semester needs a breacher episode. That naturally leads to a lighthearted, romantic plot.”

Jeff says “don’t” at the same time as Pierce asks “what’s a bleacher episode?” Pierce wins.

Abed taps his pencil against the table. “A breacher episode. It’s sort of like a filler episode, only it happens after a long, heavy story arc. With everything that’s been happening with the school lately, we need something to break up the tension and remind the audience that we can have fun. Like the eleventh episode of the fourth season in _Star Trek: The Lost Generation_ , when Transporter Chief Miles O'Brien is getting married and Data confronts his confusion about human feelings.”

“Oh man, that was a dope episode.” Troy’s smiling as he and Britta enter the room and join the group. They’re looking suspiciously friendly for two people who broke up less than two weeks ago, but no one comments on it. “It was so nice to not have to focus on Deanna losing her powers.” There’s a sound of a sniffle, followed closely by an _Aww! _He looks down at his backpack, reluctant tears filling his eyes at the memory. “It was just so heartbreaking to watch her lose her empathy after her growth!”__

____

____

Abed only nods. “Exactly. After all of the riots and suspensions, our season needs to end on a high note.”

Jeff groans at the explanation. “For the _last_ time, we are not a television show. This isn’t a season, Abed, it’s our lives. We don’t need a ‘breacher episode.’ And we definitely don’t need me being paraded around like some pretentious dick who can’t get laid without a poorly made, third-rate show.”

If he’s offended by the jab, Abed doesn’t show it. He merely looks down at the notebook in front of him, as though studying the words on the paper. “It’s not to get you laid, Jeff. That would be superficial. It’s to get you a date to the End of the Year Dance.”

“That’s ridiculous! And demoralizing!” Britta shifts up in her seat and crosses her arms, a wild look in her eyes. The group, anticipating what’s to come, groans. “Reality television has made it socially acceptable to exploit attractive, young women and pit them against each other for a man’s affection. You know, women in Saudi Arabia are fighting everyday for the right to gain independence and America is just choosing to—”

“Oh my god, _enough_ already!” Troy looks as though he’s ready to smash his head against a wall. (Or the table. It’s a lot closer.) “No one gives a crap, Britta. Reality television is _fun_ and if you ruin it for me, I swear to God, I will pee in your bed.”

Britta scoffs like she’s going to continue fighting the unwinnable fight, but ultimately slumps back and crosses her arms.

“The End of the Year Dance?” Annie’s tone is light as she brings the focus back to the dilemma at hand, but it sounds forced. One of her hands reaches up to absentmindedly twirl her hair. “Why does Jeff need a date?”

Jeff instantly offers a deadpan in response. “I don’t.”

“Dances seem to have significance within the group, and with Jeff specifically.” Abed’s looking up again, his eyes circling the group. “Freshman year we had the Tranny dance and the Slater-Britta-Annie love triangle and sophomore year gave us the Valentine’s Day dance. Technically Jeff had the B plot with Chang, but it’s enough for a theme. Finding Jeff a date for our junior year dance is the perfect way to get an A on my assignment while also moving the plot forward.”

Pierce, if only to find a way to stay relevant, barks out a laugh. “Ha! I remember when Chang lived with Jeff. Gay!” He puts out a fist to Troy, who simply shakes his head and keeps his arms at his side.

“Even if I was going to that ridiculous excuse for the dean to wear a dress,” Jeff interjects, speaking again before Pierce has the chance to, “I wouldn’t let some pop culture obsessed virgin decide who I was taking.” He’s looking at his phone as he speaks, but his fingers aren’t tapping against the screen.

Shirley frowns, despite knowing Jeff can’t see her disappointment. “You’re not going to the dance?”

“Sorry, my schedule’s already filled with Much Better Things To Do that night.”

Britta scoffs again, this time adding an eye roll to the equation. “Oh, right. Because doing an expensive almond facial and fifty push-ups is more important than spending time with your friends.”

“It’s a _very expensive skin routine_ , Britta!” It’s the kind of Jeff outburst that makes everyone’s eyes widen, so he takes a deep breath and attempts to release the newfound tension in his shoulders. “Look, you all can feed into Abed’s delusions and pretend we need these _ridiculous_ scenarios to make Greendale life actually worth living, but don’t drag me into it.”

“I’ll do it, Ay-bed,” Pierce offers. When he notices the apprehensive looks, he makes an indignant sound and sits up. “What? I may have the sexual prowess of a young Clive Owen, but I’m more than willing to help out a foreign friend.”

Annie makes a face. “Pierce! Gross! _And offensive_.”

“Clive Owen?” Troy asks. “Since when?”

“Well, Jeff was the ideal candidate due to his age and relative attractiveness to the opposite sex,” Abed offers. “But I suppose an older bachelor _could_ tap into an overlooked audience. I mean, I’m sure Jeff needs the ten grand more but—”

“Wait, what?” Jeff drops his phone and stares incredulously at Abed. “You never mentioned anything about money!”

Abed, in return, just raises an eyebrow. “Every finished project gets an entry into the Denver Producers Guild’s Festival. The winner gets fifty grand and I was planning on splitting the money if we win.”

“Okay, so. That’s a big if.” Jeff deflates a little bit and raises an accusing eyebrow. “What makes you think you’ll win?”

“C’mon, Jeff,” Troy says while laughing in disbelief, “It’s _Abed_. He’ll win.” As far as assurances go, it’s not much. Especially if his Meta Faux Divinity Film is anything to go by. Even so, Annie speaks up, her eyes shining with determination.

“Well I’m in! If you need help.” Abed shoots her a wink and a finger gun and Annie flushes in response. No one notices Jeff frowning at the interaction, and perhaps it’s just as well.

“I’m in too,” Shirley adds. “Between the sandwich shop and my boys needing braces, I’ll take all the money I can get.” She pulls her purse closer to her body, as if the action will hide her money problems. 

“Thanks, guys. I appreciate your willingness to get involved with the project. But it won’t mean anything if we don’t have a bachelor.” If Abed’s implying gaze could kill, Jeff would be dead. 

He looks incredulously around the room, at all the pleading stares pointed in his direction, before tipping his head back in resignation. “ _Fine_ , I will do your stupid show. But if you even _think_ about making me ride a white horse shirtless, I will quit and not feel the least bit bad.”

Abed pumps his crooked elbow towards his chest and Troy whoops loudly, as if Abed’s triumphs were his own. Pierce, on the other hand, groans helplessly.

“Oh, come on! I was _this_ close, Winger!”

.

.

.

And so production for “The Bachelor: Greendale Edition” begins.

.

.

.

Two weeks before filming, when the group is gathered around their table for an impromptu study session, Abed distributes their roles.

Jeff, obviously, is the star. He tries to debate the uses of “bachelor” and “playboy” in the script, but Abed ixnays his ability to comment on the format of his show. He does manage to draw the line at being referred to as anything along the lines of “desperate,” though, so it’s considered a win.

Troy is the natural choice for a host. He attempts to advocate for a Student Body President Coverage style of hosting, but Abed insists he has to be behind the camera for the parameters of the assignment. So Troy, ultimately, relents, and spends thirty-six hours binging any relevant content he can find.

Annie, despite (somewhat obviously) wanting to be considered as a contestant, is the casting direction and showrunner. Abed argues that her understanding of Jeff’s tastes in women and affinity for order make her the natural pick for both. In the end, all he has to do is mention “unlimited access to the contestants,” and Annie is in.

Shirley is the assistant producer. It makes the most sense to Abed. She’s the perfect mix of warden and show mother, with the ability to put everyone at ease while also keeping them in line. Shirley all but preens at the compliment.

Britta is offered second cameraman—despite her abysmal photography skills—but she declines, muttering something about “the perpetuation of systematic heteronormativity and misogyny.” Abed let’s her go without protest.

Pierce leaves without the chance to be given a part in the process. Abed assumes it’s due to the fact that he was passed over as the lead and decides not to count it as a loss.

.

.

.

The first thing when filming a reality television show, Abed knows, is hiring watchable contestants.

It’s a fairly simple process, but there’s a catch, something that he doesn’t have. Such shows strive to establish a connection between the audience and the contestants over the course of many weeks, so that the audience feels something when they’re sent home. The issue, Abed explains to Annie, is that they only have an episode.

“Got it,” Annie accepts with a nod, hand furiously writing notes on a clipboard. “Choose girls who Jeff has met previously so there’s an established connection. Any specific type I should be looking for?”

Abed’s eyes shine with both appreciation and consideration. They’re walking down the halls of Greendale and he takes the opportunity to survey the students who mingle around them. “We definitely need a villain. Someone who the audience can actively root against.” Annie scribbles eagerly as he continues. “And a girl so sweet that no one wants her to get corrupted. Someone the audience loves but doesn’t want to win. Also, find someone who likes the idea of Jeff but has a vendetta of some kind against him. And then, of course, we’ll need someone who’s just in it for the exposure.”

Before she can interject, a question perched at her lips, Abed adds, “The rest can be wildcards. Too many troupes can create unnecessary conflict for the audience.”

There’s an unfiltered look of apprehension in her eyes and it’s something Abed has learned to recognize. He’s not equipped to handle this, but he tries his best to ease her worries. A confident casting director is what he needs. So he finds a character that makes sense for the situation and takes her shoulders in his hands. “Look, kid, you’ve got it. That something special. That _moxy_. Now I need you to run with this and find me some girls because I know you can do it. Got it?”

He watches, with relief, as the expression in Annie’s eyes changes from terrified to determined. She nods and throws her shoulders back with confidence and says, “I won’t let you down, Boss.” And then she’s off, skirting flowing as she whizzes down the hallway.

Abed watches her until she’s gone. Then he raises both eyebrows and blows out a slow puff of air before making his way to his dorm. 

He’s got work to do.

.

.

.

Approximately twelve hours, fifteen minutes, and thirty-two seconds later, Annie rushes into the study room with a handful of papers and a wild look in her eyes. “I did it! I got them!”

Abed, Troy, and Shirley look up from their notes. Jeff keeps his eyes on his phone as he attempts to cut flying fruit with a knife. Pierce and Britta, notably, aren’t there.

She doesn’t expand right away; instead, she takes the time to spread a total of five headshots across the table. “The contestants! It took a _tiny_ bit of intimidation and a _lot_ of ink from the third-floor printer, but we’re all set. Also, maybe a little bit of bribing. You’d be cool with Megan driving your car if you end up picking her, right Jeff?” 

“ _Megan?_ ” When Jeff finally lifts his eyes to the situation at hand, they have a look of disbelief and disgust held within them. “You asked the girl you and Abed go into that pointless catfight with to be on the show?”

(It’s almost comical, the way he’s seemingly all-in now.)

“Alright, Jeff, I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.” Abed stands so he can inspect the headshots. And also pat Jeff’s shoulder in what he hopes to be is a pressing way. “I need your reaction to seeing the contestants for the first time to be genuine, and that can’t happen if you’ve already seen their headshots.”

Jeff, to his credit, pushes himself out of his chair. He may be rolling his eyes as he gathers his stuff, but he’s learned to recognize when Abed is in the zone. “Fine, I will go. But I am going to _strongly_ ask that you don’t allow Megan to be an option. Or drive my car.” The latter statement is directed at Annie, who simply smirks and wiggles her fingers in response.

“Now,” Abed starts once the room is clear of aftershave and expensive hair gel, “Talk to me. What am I looking at here?”

And so Annie excitedly goes over who she found: “Vicki, who is a shoo-in for the girl who one really expects to win and can be let go first, Angela, who _totally_ hates Jeff after the way he left Britta at the Transfer Dance and has that personal vendetta you wanted, Claire, Britta’s non-lesbian friend, Megan, obviously, as the show’s villain, and Linda, who does improv and tried to help Pierce write jokes that one time.”

Troy furrows his eyebrows for a moment, still considering something that had been, seemingly, overlooked by the others. “Wait, Annie, when you said ‘intimidation,’ what did that mean?”

“Uh…” She lets her eyes slide down to the table and twists her mouth, as though she’s trying to remember. “Just… Y’know. Some good, old-fashioned girl talk.”

“Oh, okay. Cool.” Troy goes from looking as though he’s accepted her explanation to realizing that it didn’t actually make all that much sense, but doesn’t press her any further. It turns out that his life is a lot easier when he chooses ignorance and pretends that Annie is innocent.

With the moment over, Shirley takes the opportunity to ask, “What do you think, Abed?”

There’s a beat of silence as the others turn to look for his approval. Abed stares at the photographs for a minute or two, as though stuck in deep thought. He’s really just running future scenarios in his mind, but that doesn’t feel worthy of explaining. Instead, after a moment, he smiles. Because, for the first time (in the two days since he was first handed the assignment), things are starting to come together. 

“They’re perfect.”

.

.

.

“ _Please_ , Abed!”

“Sorry, Dean, no can do. This show is a strictly heterosexual format. I don’t like it any more than you do, but that’s showbiz.”

“But no one would be expecting it! It could break down barriers! Think of the _conversation_ it would start!”

“I do like the idea of starting conversation... But we already have the contestants lined up, and we can’t add another one. I’m trying to steer clear of even numbers. It’s bad luck.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing…”

“If you really want to be involved, we could always use someone on hair and makeup. That’s the best I can do. Gotta run.”

“But I already bought—I mean, _borrowed_ —a dress from my sister! Abed!”

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapters, of which I think there will be two, will be longer (if people are interested in reading more!). So please let me know what you think in the comments!


End file.
